Huntress
by lilypads97
Summary: My name is Dani, last names don't matter here, not unless you're the Winchesters. But that name hasn't been in circle in years. Not since they were killed by Crowley, King of Hell. But that was a long time ago. We can't think that heroes are immortal. The reality is that our heroes are the quickest to die, they are brave and they are stupid. And they all have their own horror story
1. Moondance

One- Moon Dance

Humanity measures it's life in years, birthdays and moments with loved ones. But we, as Hunters, have learned to measure our lives with the moments we've brushed death, both figuratively and literally. What we deal with, what we harbor and what we've sacrificed, are the things you've only seen in your worst, most vivid nightmares. This life, our jobs, is what keeps you regular people alive, breathing and ignorant to what is lurking in the shadows of your what seems to save neighborhoods. But where does it start? Who truly just decides to put themselves on this life path?

The truth is, it's not a decision. It never is. For me, it was a one way ticket to nonstop vengeance.

My name is Dani, last names don't matter here, not unless you're the _Winchesters_. But that name hasn't been in circle in years. Not since they were killed by Crowley, King of Hell. But that was a long time ago. We can't think that heroes are immortal. The reality is that our heroes are the quickest to die, they are brave and they are stupid. And they all have their own horror story

I guess mine started when I was seventeen. I came home from school one day to see a blood a trail from the foyer to the kitchen. Heart racing, I sprinted into the kitchen to see my brothers body splayed on the white tile floor, wrists slit open and tongue cut out. I screamed out for my mother and father and they rushed into the kitchen looking just as alarmed as I did. But their alarm turned into blood chilling smiles and their eyes glossed over into midnight black.

I couldn't really process what happened next. I witnessed my parents take a blade to each of their necks, sever their Carotid arteries and drop dead in front of me.

I spent a year in the upstate New York psychiatric facility after that, to _cope_. I'd love to say that through intense therapy and time I moved on, and gotten over the black eyes that haunt my nightmares. But the truth is, after being there for a month, I'd learned that the horror of my families of my death and horrors one experiences in asylum are equal in damage. I had also learned that the only way you can learn to cope and deal with your problem is lie that you're fine until everyone starts to believe you. Some days, even you'll believe you.

The day I was released was the day the hunt began. I was a kid who was scarred, angry, and stupid. I didn't know what I was doing, what I was looking for, what I was hunting.

I was eighteen when they let me out. Old enough for the state to leave me out on my own, with whatever money I had earned from the insurance money. I had no other family anywhere being that my parents both emigrated caribbean islands. I was alone. It's been five years and I still am alone.

As I said before, we hunters measure our lives with the amount of times we've barely escaped death.

Today, I am forty three. I am standing in the middle of pennsylvania forest. She is behind me, breathing heavily, and snarling. She is hungry and I am her prey. But little does she know that she is the one who was being hunted the entire time. As quickly as I can I grab the blade strapped to my calf and whip around to meet her golden slit eyes and slam the silver blade directly into her chest and hard and deeply as I can.

She howls for a second before whimpering and dropping to the ground. Her body lays pale, her teeth have retracted and her eyes back to normal. I do not enjoy the hunt of the wolves. It's once you've killed them that you realize they have something that most hunters have lost. Their humanity.

After severing her head and burying the body in deeper into the forest, I hurry back to my black jeep wrangler and head back north. I turn on the radio and a smile plays against my lips as Michael Buble's voice fills my truck.

"_Well it's a marvelous night for a moon dance."_


	2. Raven

A loud banging on my door jolts me awake. I quite literally roll off my bed, get myself up and hurry to my door. When I open it, my favorite neighbor is standing there with a very warm smile.

"Hello Dani." She says to me, brightly.

"Hi Sarah." I say motioning for her to come in.

As she steps in to my apartment, she eyes me carefully. "What?" I ask curiously.

She laughs and sits herself onto my plum colored couch. "You, you look like shit. A hunt?"

I met Sarah Connell two years ago when I had saved her and her son from a Vampire nest in the village. Since then, she allowed me to stay in an apartment in her building in the East Village of New York City, as one of her tenants for free. She even gave me a job as a bartender in the bar below the building. She calls it a trade off but to me, it's more than that. For me she'd given me a family again, although i'll never tell her that.

"Yeah, a wolf in Pennsylvania."

"Oh, lovely! Why don't you clean up and i'll cook you some breakfast?" She says as her green eyes light up. She is a mother.

I nod and wander back into my room. After stripping out of last nights clothes, I take a look at myself in the mirror. I really do look like shit. My thick, wavy chestnut hair is matted around my oval face. My high, round cheekbones are protruding more than they usually are. How long has been since i've had a decent meal? I look up into my tired, round-almond shaped, golden brown eyes and sigh.

I hop into the shower and wash away yesterdays grime.

* * *

"You were gone for a few days Dani, rough hunt?" Sarah asks as she places a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast in front of me. My stomach groans again.

"She was hard to track, she killed quick and barely left any trace. She knew how to cover up her tracks which mean she was constantly on the run. She also had no pack."

"A lone wolf." Sarah says with a slight smirk.

I smile back at her and begin to dig into my food. Every bite is delicious.

I honestly got really lucky as a hunter. Many of us can't find a place to stay, food to eat or even money to just get by. I warned Sarah that keeping me around might be dangerous knowing that something could come for me at any moment but she was more scared of what would come if I didn't stay.

The building itself is demon proof, i'd made sure of it. I'd called in a few favors from other hunters whose asses i've had to save in the past and they were willing to help and even try to "supernatural proof" entirely. In the past two years we've never had any problem, nonetheless I gave Sarah and her son some basic instruction while for what to do while I am gone.

"Hey Sarah, how's Jesse been?" I ask, as I take my last bite of savory bacon.

"He's been great. It's his last year of highschool and school's coming to a close so he's very excited. He's growing up too fast for me, next thing you know he'll be in college and I'll be here by myself." She says sadly. Her blonde hair is up in a ponytail making her look so young.

"Well, I'll still be here."

"You have such a warm glow, has anyone ever told you that sweetheart?" She looks into my eyes for moment before clearing the table of our plates. "I need you to work the late shift tonight, it's friday and you know how crazy it gets, but you're the only one who can handle it."

"Yes Ma'm."

* * *

I hate friday nights, I really do. On friday nights the kids from the city colleges come in and flash their ID's thinking I can't tell the difference from a fake and real one. When I do turn them away, they mutter their curses under their breaths leave.

It's twelve am now so the bustle of the bar is starting the die down and starting to empty out. Sarah is seated on the stool across from me chatting up a very handsome man in an expensive suit.

"Would you two like another beer?" I ask with a playful smile on my face. Sarah looks at me startled and embarrassed. The two nod.

I hum along to a Mumford and Son's song that is playing while I fill two mugs with beer. As I top of the second mug I hear the door to the bar door open and look up.

A tall man stalks in and perches himself in the stool at the farthest end of the bar. Because of the dim lighting, I can't get a good look at him. I place Sarah and the suit man's beers on the counter and walk toward the shadowed figure.

"Last call is in half an hour, what can I get you?" I ask cooly.

He looks up at me and I am taken back. His black curly hair is cropped in a Beckham sort of way and his short beard is striking against his pale skin. He looks up at me with his wide, deep blue eyes and gives me a chilling look. His full lips part, giving a short sigh.

"Jack and coke, please." He says monotonously.

I nod and begin to make his drink. In the corner of my eye I watch as shrugs off his black coat leaving him in a white v-neck t shirt, showing off his lean build.

I push his drink towards him. "That'll be 12.50. Unless you'd like to open up a tab?"

He shakes his head and hands me a twenty. "Keep the change." He says in a low voice. He eyes me carefully, looking me up and down with a curious look.

I look down at myself. I am wearing a black vest with a white tank and dark denim jeans, as well as my short black riding boots. "Do you not like my outfit?" I ask, curiously.

His eyes widen as he realizes i've caught him. "No, no it's not that. I was just, admiring." My eyebrow raises. "Your tattoos." He clarifies.

"Oh, well why didn't you say so. Which one are we looking at?" I ask. He motions to my upper bicep. The small bat. "I got this one when I was sixteen when I went on vacation with one of my friends in highschool to the Bahamas. There's a lot of things you can do there underage and with 100 bucks in your wallet. I had a thing for batman then, still do. Kind of regret it now though."

"Why?"

"No specific reason." I say coiley. "What about you stranger, any tattoos on you?"

"Yes actually, though maybe not as many as you. I have two on my back, one on my chest and a few on my arms." He extends his arms out allowing me to see the sleeve on his right arm and the miscellaneous ones on the left. "What about that one?" He asks, pointing to the right side of my chest.

My shirt doesn't cover up the entire tattoo so some of it peeks out. I slide my shirt over to reveal it in it's entirety. My anti-possession tattoo, the endless knot.

His eyes narrow and a smirk forms on his face. _"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas-."_

"You're too pretty to be a hunter." I cut him off.

"I was going to say the same to you sweetheart. What's your name?" He leans in to me, his eyes boring into mine.

"You first." I whisper.

"I'm Elija." He says as he inches closer.

I lean my face into his until my lips are brushed against his ear, brushing against his stubble. "Dani." I breathe out, he shutters. "Oh, and if you ever call me sweetheart again, _sweetheart_, i'll put a nice big scar on the pretty little face of yours." I push myself away from him and place my place in between him fingers that are splayed against the bar counter, careful to be discreet and not attract attention from the other bar patrons.

Elija's eyes widen even further as he eyes my blade. "Is that my-"

"Get the fuck out of my bar." I hiss quietly.


End file.
